


Solarus

by MortemMessor



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Badass Wendy Corduroy, Bill Has A Bad History, Bill Names It, Billionare Dipper, But Nobody You Care About, Cults, Dipper Gets A Puppy, Enemy Lovers, Fluff, Friendship/Love, He Inhertited Fords Stuff, Human Bill Cipher, Im Not Ruling It Out, Its Not Dark I Swear, Like Fuck-You-Up History, Maybe - Freeform, Maybe Later Smut, Multi, Nobody is Dead, People Will Die, Plot Twists, Publisher Bill, She Works For Dipper, Soos Does Too Eventually, Superhero Dipper, Supervillan Bill, Thats A Big Lie, Violence, Weird Plot Shit, What Have I Done, sorta - Freeform, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7355482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MortemMessor/pseuds/MortemMessor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ford's death, Dipper Pines finds out the old villain who burnt down the Shack eight years ago is back. Caesar Cipher is up to no good, and he's got backup this time. However, when a new superhero called Solarus, Hero of The Stars, rises up against him with his own team, this G's get more complicated. To make matters worse  Cipher's alter ego Bill has made a new friend, who has quickly turned to more, and Cipher will soon be beaten at his own game, because everyone is not always what they seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_Fire. Fire everywhere. It hurled plumes of smoke into the air, and they curled down the twelve year old's throat as he called out. Brown eyes were wide and watery with panic and smoke._

_"Ma-" He dissolved into a fit of coughing, stumbling forwards, "Mabel! Grunkle Stan! Ford! Anyone!? Can you hear me!?" He yelled, before coughing violently once more. He crossed the hall and flung open the door to the break room. A flaming beam cut the room in half, the left wall starting to crumble as fire licked in between the old boards._

_A figure sat in the corner, shivering despite the sweltering heat. Dipper gasped, immediately regretting it as he erupted into another harsh fit of hacking, "Mabel!" He cried, scrambling into the room and squeezing under the charred brace of wood. The brunette girl looked up, face streaked with ash and tears, and she stood up shakily, sobbing with relief, "Dipper!" She whimpered as she fell into his arms, slumping with her arm limp at her side._

_He held her up, looking around desperately, "Where's Grunkle Stan?" He yelled over the roar of the flames. She hiccuped, "I-I don't know! We g-got sep-seperated!" She choked out. Dipper shook his head, looking around frantically, "Um, c-c'mon then! We have to get out of here!" He said, before beginning to drag her back towards the door._

_They screamed in unison as the beam fell inches before their noses as they tried to go under again. Another second and they would've been crushed. Dipper looked helplessly down at his injured twin, who was looking up at him with watery and fearful eyes, lip trembling, "Dip," She croaked, "What do we do?"_

_He swallowed hard and whipped his head around to look for another escape. He spotted the tiny window above the bed, and his eyes narrowed with determination. He yanked Mabel towards it, "This way!" He coughed out, and she stumbled along behind him. He pushed her up on top of the slight sill, letting her cling to the wall for balance._

_He hauled himself up beside her, gripping her hand as he pushed the window pane open. Mabel threw him a panicked glance, "We're on the second floor, we'll never climb down in time." She wailed. Dipper rolled his bottom lip inbetween his teeth, before nodding to himself, "Then we have to jump!" He yelled back._

_The sniffling girl gaped at him, "Are you crazy!? We'll never make that!" She yelled. Dipper shook his head, pointing to the ledge of the gift shop entrance below them, "If we hit the porch first it will soften our momentum to where the worst we'll get is bruises or a few splinters, possibly both." He explained. Mabel still looked doubtful, but took a deep breath and nodded, a firm shine to her eyes, grip tightening on his hands, "Alright."_

_The shorter twin smiled weakly at her, before squaring his shoulders, "On three. One, two, three!" He shouted, and they lept from the window just as the room behind them fully collapsed. Mabel let out a screech as they plummeted down, and Dipper wrapped his arms around her stomach, twisting so that when they hit the porch, he took most of the shock._

_He released a pained yelp as the shingles dug into his back, them a small whimper as he held Mabel tighter as they rolled off the roof. He hit the ground on his side, grunting and wincing at Mabel's squeak of pain as she hit her injured arm. Dipper felt something hot near his back, but paid no mind to it as he released Mabel and rolled over to flop on his back, sucking in the clear night air, the burning of his lungs easing._

_The air he'd just gotten released itself in the form of a pained shriek as he laid on something metal, pain searing into his shoulder blade and blistering his skin. He quickly went to sit up, but another cry from Mabel and a boot on his chest stopped him, a breathless gasp coming to him as he was pushed farther back onto the object._

_He grit his teeth and opened his watery eyes to look up at the shadowy man standing over him with a disinterested expression. The man's face was hidden by a mask in the shape of a jackal, and the rest was shadowed by a black hood as he looked over the boy before scoffing. He leaned down, "Where is it?" He hissed._

_Dipper clawed at the boot on his chest as glowing blue eyes glared at him, "I d-don't- ah -k-know what you're t-t-talking about!" He spluttered out, spots beginning to gather in his vision. He could feel his skin literally **melting** off the longer the man kept his boot there. _

_The man sneered down at him, but it was a bit unsure, "The Staff! Where is it!?" He snapped, pressing harder. Dipper choked, pushing feebly as his skin burned and his ribs creaked, "P-pl-please!" He rasped, black swirling thickly through his line of sight. He sucked in a breath, tears springing to his eyes, "I d-don't know w-what that is! Please!" He sobbed. The man blinked, then tsked, taking his foot away._

_Before Dipper could move, the cloaked man had cast a glance around and knelt down, pressing a hand to Dipper's chest where his boot had set. The brunette flinched, but as the man murmured something, his gloved hand glowing a light blue. A tingling sensation started where his hand was, warming his chest._

_Dipper gasped as he took his hand away, but before he could register anything else, a hand had grabbed his hair and wrenched him up._

_"Don't read into this brat." The voice hissed in his ear, and he released a shaky, breathless, gasp as he finally came off the object causing him so much pain. That, and the man's voice was so dark and deep it sent shivers down his spine. Then he was thrown away from where he'd been laying, landing hard on the dirt with a grunt. He groaned and raised his head weakly, watching the man stand and stalk off into the night._

_He saw a trembling figure laying a little ways away from him, and he heard the familiar sound of his sister crying. He wiped his own eyes, standing on shaky legs despite the dizziness that came with he action, staggering over to his twin. He dropped to his knees beside her, trying to roll her over, but stopping when she let out a whine. He felt something wet beneath his hand, lifting it with sinking suspicion._

_His eyes widened with horror as he saw the blood coating his palm and the dark red seeping through Mabel's sweater, a large, smoking gash in the side of brightly colored garment._

_Dipper sucked in a shallow breath even as he began to feel faint, "No. No. Nonononono! Mabel! Oh, Mabel! Mabel, Mabel please.... P-please...." The world tilted, and everything faded to black._


	2. Inheritance

Dipper hefted the last box into the bed of his truck with a sigh. He turned as the sound of metal connecting harshly with the ground met his ears. He saw Soos leaning on the box that held his equipment, panting heavily, "Dude, what do you even have in here!?" He wheezed. 

The brunette rolled his eyes with a laugh, picking up his backpack and hefting if onto one shoulder, "Research. Lots and lots of research. But I've got some guys coming to pick up the rest of my stuff, so if you want I could give you a lift over to my new place." He offered, going around to the driver's side.

Soos gave a relieved groan and nodded, ambling over to the passenger side of the Navy dodge. Dipper grinned, slinging himself in the driver's seat and slamming the door shut. He cranked the car and left the apartment complex's parking lot.

Soos suddenly gasped and smacked his arm, earning a yelp, "Dude! Dude! Put it on!" 

Dipper's cheeks tinged pink and he rolled his eyes, "I'm not putting it on, Soos."

"Aw, dude! C'mon!"

"I'm not putting it on man."

"Why not!?"

"Because it's embarrassing!"

"You're not doing it for you! I helped you move, so you owe me."

"I offered to pay you."

"I refuse to take your evil green paper as payment. But I will accept this."

"No."

"Please!?"

Dipper sighed, "...Alright, fine. But just this once!"

Soos pumped a fist in the air with a cheerful shout as a disgruntled Dipper dug around in his console, taking out the old CD and putting it in, grumbling with a small hidden smile. Soos reminded him of Mabel so much sometimes.

He had to admit, however, it had boosted his self-esteem when he found out Soos had the same taste in music as he did. Top 40s man, nothing beat 'em. That didn't stop the flush that painted his cheeks as BABBA began to spill through the speakers. Soos gave a toothy grin and started to sing along loudly, "Disco girl! Comin' through! That girl is you! C'mon dude, sing with me!" Soos belts out happily.

Dipper rolls his eyes, then after a moment, opens his mouth and starts to sing along softly at first, then gradually louder as they drove. Soon enough, the windows were rolled down and two voices were belting out lyrics at the top of their lungs.

"DISCO GIRL! COMIN' THOUGH! THAT GIRL IS YOU! OH-OH!" Dipper was laughing hysterically by the time the music faded out, gasping for air as Soos grinned goofily at him. Dipper sighed. shaking his head with an eyeroll, but he was smiling. He turned down the narrow paved road, having reached his desired road. His own frickin' road to his very own house. Thank you Great Uncle Ford for getting him interested in scientific research.

Grant money. Not to mention the continuous income of a few of his own published books, and inventions (like the non-bursting pens, idea courtesy of Mabel after taking him to get hospital one too many times for ink poisoning), and the literal self washing clothes. That one had taken him forever to figure out, but it was worth it. Finding just the right chemical concoction that would release cleansing aromas and suds as it was dirtied. You could wear the same shirt for months on end and not need to actually wash it.

Good thing for Dipper, since he regularly forgot to even change clothes and thought taking the time to actually pick them up and put them in the washer was a waste of valuable research time. Research equaled scientific discoveries, which equaled inventions, which equaled quite a bit of jangle in his pockets. He could probably retire right now and never have to leave his house for anything ever again.

He smiled bitterly at the thought of why. His Great Uncle Ford had died recently. A few weeks ago actually, and since Ford never got to spend his grant money or savings on anything but more inventions, which did nothing but bring in even more cash, the nearly eighty year old man was practically one of the most wealthy men in the states. Or he used to be. Now, that was Dipper.

He didn't think it to be quite fair though. Ford had left him everything, and since Stan hadn't bit the bullet yet, Mabel was left with hardly anything but her own earnings. Dipper knew Stan had left everything to Mabel except the Mystery Shack. He had given that to Soos while he retired, who had taken a small break from work to come help him move.

The conman had most likely stashed quite a bit of money over the years, but nowhere near as much as Ford. Mabel had said it was fine, since she was supposedly currently dating the rich founder of a fashion company all the way across the country in the big city of Yew Nork. Northwest Industries was worldwide spread, so if Mabel really was dating her boss she was going to be pretty well off.

Despite her saying it was fine, however, Dipper still refused to use any of Ford's money unless he was in absolute dire need of it. Which, currently, he really, really didn't. He didn't want to move from Gravitsaya to be honest, and while it wasn't as big or as famous of a city as New York, it was where mystery, science, and all things of historical importance were hidden.

Soos gasping in awe jerked him from his reminiscing, and he looked up with wide eyes to his house. More like his _mansion_. He gulped, seriously rethinking requesting Mabel's help with designing anything else of his. "Holy. Shit." He breathed, as surprised and awed as Soos. Dipper looked up at the house and felt automatically intimidated and impressed.

It was a handsome house to be quite honest, Mabel had done a wonderful job designing that part, but the size was what threw him off. He'd given Mabel a loose budget, and a list of a few things he wanted and needed, like a little weight room, a library, a separate study, and a large space where he could create and do his 'nerd thing' (as Mabel so eloquently put it), in peace.

He left the rest up to her, exceeding his extremely strict rule about pink. There was absolutely no way he was letting Mabel loose without some ground rules. No pink, that was all he asked. He really should've asked for more. Or really he should have said: a lot less. Mabel hadn't let him anywhere near it before it was done being built, saying it was a surprise. Well, he was surprised alright.

He parked his truck and got out, staring up at the house with slack jawed. "This is literally the last time I let Mabel design anything of importance. Next time I don't know what I wanna do with something, remind me to call Wendy." He said to Soos, who only nodded. He looked back at the pile of boxes in the bed of his truck, looking pitiful against the size of the manor in front of them.

Dipper finally closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before grabbing the box filled with his necessities from the front seat, and Soos grabbed the other two, before they walked up the steps. Going inside, all he could do was stare. "Holy. Shit." He repeated, not sure whether to be in awe or horror. When he walked past the library, he did a double take. Awe it was.

Dipper nearly dropped his box as he stated at pristine mahogany shelves filled with what must've been hundreds upon hundreds of rows of books. Old, new, every classic from here to the eighteen hundreds. His personal favorites were in a section that was completely lined with silver.

"Mabel, I love you." He whispered to himself, Soos' voice keeping him from just plopping the box down and diving headfirst into one of those plush looking chairs and curling up with a book for the rest of the day. Dipper shook his head, tearing his eyes from the library and closing the door behind him, just in case he got distracted.

He looked around at the dark veined marble floors and steps, the blood red painted walls, and the plush carpet of the living room, which had white valuted ceiling with quite a few sparkly lights dangling from it. The carpet was soft looking, indented only by the black leather couch and loveseat, a matching rocking chair with a worn fluffy looking navy blanket draped across its back.

The fireplace was made of riverstone, deep grays and light browns coupled with the occasional orange and green here or there, with a wooden shelf right below the flat screen TV that looked about the size of the jumbotron in New York. The cable service in a city like Gravitsaya wasn't great, but with what the rest of the house looked like, his twin had better have hooked him up with Netflix.

Thinking of Mabel, he realized there were little mounds of things placed all about the wooden shelf. He walked forward, inspecting it as he layed the box down on the glass coffee table. His expression softened when he recognized them. Grunkle Ford had a lot of little trinkets and tiny inventions he would make just for fun or when he was bored, and Dipper saw a good many over them scattered over his mantle.

None of them were turned on. It was then Dipper noticed a little pink sticky note hanging precariously off a small box, a rather intricate one with three wires topped with gold knobs that when turned on whirled and made little shapes out of crisscrossing multicolored lights in the air above it. He plucked it off and gave it a once over before smiling widely.

 

' _Dear Broseph, I took the liberty of taking Fords things out of your shed at the Shack and placing them all over the house. I hope you like the design, I added a little 'Mabelism' to it! Also, per suggestion of Paz, I added a spinning bookcase in your library. It's awesome and your welcome. Call me when your settled in. Love, The Alpha Twin :)_ '

 

Dipper rolled his eyes fondly. Yeah, he could definitely see the Mabelism. Especially the bookcase thing. He was curious, he'd have to go look through the library again. He was touched that Mabel remembered when he said he wanted to create a space of inspiration, and with Fords stuff scattered strategically everywhere, finding inspiration should be no problem.

He replaced the sticky note and went with Soos to get the rest of the boxes.

 

¥£¥

 

Dipper plopped into the couch three very long hours later, mentally and physically exhausted. It had taken Soos and himself both an hour to familiarize themselves with the rest of the house, Soos chattering away about how cool it was and how lucky Dipper was.

The twenty year old groaned and stretched his arms above his head, sighing contently as his back popped in four rapid clicks. He grimaced as he remembered climbing the marble stairs and falling on his ass twice, trying to cart the boxes up to their proper room.

He was going to have to go shopping later, since the boxes only covered his necessities. His refrigerator (stainless steel with clear glass windows for the double doors) only held a few select items he'd had in his fridge beforehand, and he was pretty sure he'd put that Tupperware container filled with Soos' Abuleita's infamous chocolate strawberry pie in there as well.

Underneath the transparent double doors of his fridge, there was a drawer that served as a freezer with an automatic ice maker beside a bottle of vodka he wasn't sure he'd ever open.

Dipper was about to check out his TV, when the sound of a doorbell echoed through the house. He sniffed, scrunching his nose up briefly in annoyance before standing. He trudged to the front door, wondering who would show up on his doorstep at - he glanced at the clock over the inn table - six in the evening.

He opened the door slightly to see a girl standing there. Her hair was cut short to her chin, and (strangely enough, considering she couldn't have been more than twenty) shining a metallic silver, glinting in the light of the setting sun. Her bright green eyes were trained off to the side, staring into the woods where the sun was slowly sinking behind the treetops, the orange light reflecting off slim rectangular glasses with plastic black rims.

Dipper blinked, seeing a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose as she turned and caught sight of him. Her eyes widened and she smiled, "Oh, hello! I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I've come by to check out the new neighbor!" She explained cheerfully.

Her clothes were simple with a few paint splatters, most gathered on her pants. A brown leather satchel was slung over one shoulder, crossing over torso. She wore black gloves over her hands, which Dipper found strange, considering the time of year.

Realizing he'd been staring narrowly at the woman for about two minutes he blinked and shook his head with a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I didn't realize I had any neighbors." He stepped out and hastily raised he hand, "Dipper, Dipper Pines." He greeted.

She grinned, looking down her small upturned nose to meet his eyes since she was at least a few inches taller than him, and shook his hand, "Pleasure. Faith Wisher." She retracted her hand and Diper flexed his own; she had a strong grip. Faith tucked a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear, "And yeah, not a lot of people live around here. It's a ways away from the center of the city, and most people don't wanna make the drive. I live back over there a ways. I like to keep to myself."

Dipper nodded, "I feel you. I personally don't like city noise." He stood back and to the side, "Do you wanna come in?" He asked tentatively. She didn't look like an axe murderer, more like a well-built ocean addict, but you could never tell.

"Thank you," She replied, stepping inside and glancing around as Dipper shut the door behind her. The brunette walked off and beckoned her to follow.

"I don't have much in way of food, but I've got pie," He said lamely, opening up the fridge as Faith sat herself down at the island made entirely of of black granite. She shot him a small smile, "That's quite alright. Dipper, right?" Dipper nodded affirmatively and she continued, "Though I thought the owner of such a big... house would at least have plates." 

Her tone was less mocking and more teasing, and Dipper felt heat creep up his neck as he handed her a slice of pie on a paper towel. He rubbed the back of his neck, "Heh, yeah. The moving truck with all my other things is coming tomorrow. As for my current lack of food, I've got to go shopping tomorrow."

Faith blinked, then hastily hoisted her bag off, flipping it open and rummaging through it. "Can't believe I almost forgot!" She looked up with a weak smile, "I didn't come over here just to steal your food, I swear! Hold on," She tugged several paintbrushes out of the bag before her expression brightened, finding what she was looking for.

She pulled out a small paper bag that read 'Bi-Lo' in green blocked font on its side, before shoving it at him across the island. Faith, seeing his confused expression, hastily explained, "No, it's not actually from Bi-Lo, I didn't have the time to go to the store before you showed up, and I hardly go to the store anyway. I make - ya know what, just open it."

Dipper rolled his eyes but rolled the bag top, reaching in and pulling out a chunk of what looked like fudge. He peered inside and saw about nine more pieces. He glanced up, and Faith smiled happily, "I made it myself! I garden a lot, but I didn't know if you were allergic to anything, so I made a bunch of different kinds. I'm pretty sure there's white chocolate somewhere in there too..." She trailed off thoughtfully.

Dipper smiled, "Thank you, it should hold me over when the pie runs out." He teased, and Faith rolled her eyes. They continued to talk back and forth, asking questions, sharing opinions, until the clock gonged in the foyer and Dipper jumped.

Faith snorted at his reaction, then counted the rings before standing, "Well, I should get going. Faolan an probably misses me. It's been fun talking to you, Dipper. If you ever need help with anything, you know who to call."

"Best Artist in All Of Gravitsaya, yep. I'll see you around, Faith. I gotta call Mabel."

She nodded in understanding and gave one last wave before letting herself out. Dipper went back to the couch and sat down, grabbing the remote. He didn't really expect to have neighbors at all, but she seemed nice enough. Mabel would love her, he was sure of it.

Speaking of his twin, he got out his phone and opened his contacts. He flipped it to the news channel and turned the volume down, pressing his sister's name and waiting for her to pick up.

After talking to his overly hyper sibling for half an hour, utterly forgetting to tell her about his new friend, (was she a friend? He wasn't sure), as she prodded him about his thoughts on the new house. After getting bombarded with complaints about how 'Paz' had been ignoring her, he finally came to a stopping point and with a "Goodnight Lady Mabelton." he hung up.

Dipper smiled fondly, rolling his eyes, grinning at his screen as got up to go to bed. He shut the TV off without looking, throwing the remote on the couch. Had he watched for just a little while longer, he would've seen the warning flash across the bottom ribbon. A name that haunts his dreams rolling through it in all capital letters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a beta for this story now! Wyldeheart has a degree in literature, I would bet my nonexsistant life on it. Anyway, comments and kudos are appreciated and welcomed! For those of you that have read Starlit Dawns and Bright Eyed Dusks, FAITH IS BACK BITCHES! Enjoy it~


	3. Friends And Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go south, then west to just north of weird.

It had been four days since Dipper moved into his new home, and it was beginning feel like just that. Home.

A place where he could walk around freely in his underwear, dance around while cleaning and sing like an idiot, and yell at people on the phone in the dining room where his voice echoed around and made him sound more forceful and valiant. Which was what he was doing currently.

"Look- What? No, you can't! Listen h- Listen to me! I need those listings _this week_ , not three weeks, not a month, during this five day period!"

It was silent for a moment and Dipper stopped pacing long enough to grab the back of a chair and scowl at the wood of the table. His cheeks abruptly turned an indignant pink.

"It doesn't matter how much money I have! Your job is to get it out and on the shelves on time!" Another pause.

Dipper slammed his palm down on the table, "Well keeping up business stocks is how I continue to stay wealthy, Mr. Jackson! Just because I have money doesn't mean I throw it about like a careless idiot!" He gnawed on his bottom lip in frustration, brows creased.

His mouth dropped open in shock before he snarled, "I AM NOT A RICH BRAT, I JUST ACTUALLY TAKE PRIDE IN MY WORK!" He roared at the speaker, muscles tensing in anger. He took a deep breath and sighed, "Mr. Jackson, as long as you are going to continue acting like an absolute prick, I am taking my novels elsewhere. It was nice working with you." He replied calmly before hanging up.

He ran a hand down his face and released his death grip on the back of the chair. Dipper groaned, "Great. Just absolutely frick fruking wonderful." The brunette's shoulders slumped, "Now I need to find a new publishing company before the week is up."

He stomped to the fridge, yanking it open and taking a Pitt cola from the crisper. Faith had told him that's not where drinks are supposed to go, but right then, he really could not care less. The click and hiss of the tab echoed through the kitchen, making him wonder briefly where Faith was.

The last few days she'd visited a couple times and they'd chatted while Dipper finished editing his script for his new book. She had similar interests to him, such as an affinity for the unexplainable and things with magical properties, along with a nearly unhealthy obsession with books.

Dipper also found that she wasn't as tame as she had first seemed, often swearing like a sailor and going off on wild tangents in conversations, and sometimes accidentally slipping into various accents at random times. All in all, she was a strange (though not unpleasant) person to hang out with.

Dipper jumped about five feet in the air when his phone rang, and he snatched it up to brought it too close to his face. He blinked and pulled it back a bit, seeing the caller ID before his eyes widened and he hastily clicked the answer button.

"Wendy!"

"Hey dude!"

The familiar voice made some of the tension melt from his muscles and he managed a small smile he knew she couldn't see. He rubbed the back of his neck, "Hi. I didn't expect you to call. Is everything alright?" He asked worriedly.

Wendy laughed sheepishly, "Actually Dip, I need to ask you a favor." 

Dipper sat down at the island and took a sip from his soda, "What do you need? I'm not sure I can help, but I can try my best," He answered. 

Wendy sighed, "I got fired from my job a few weeks ago and haven't been able to get a new one. I'm about to get evicted and I have no food."

Dipper frowned, slowly setting his can down, "So you need money," He said carefully. 

There was a small sound on the other line that sounded strangled, before Wendy emitted a small, "Yeah."

Dipper ran a hand through his hair, "How much do you need?" He asked tiredly, resigned. Wendy made another noise, this one sounding surprised and a little offended.

"No, Dipper, I don't want you to just give it to me, I was asking if I could come work for you."

Dipper blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it sunk in and he gave a soft sigh of relief. Then he bit his lip, "Wendy, I'd love to help, but I don't really have use for workers in my line of work," He replied apologetically.

Wendy hummed, "Well, do you need help around the house? I could be your maid or whatever." Dipper gaped at the kitchen wall, then shook his head, "I-I've never really considered...servants," he mumbled nervously. "I don't want to mistreat anyone on accident."

Wendy scoffed, "Mistreat someone? Dipper, this is you we're talking about. No offense man, but you're kind of a marshmallow."

The brunette grinned then crossed his arms and said snootily, "Well with an attitude like that you'll never get a raise."

"Yeah, well I-" A pause. "Are you serious!? I can come work for you!?"

Dipper laughed, "Yeah, I don't mind, and I could use the help. My house is pretty big." 

Wendy squealed excitedly, "Thank you! Dipper, you have no idea how big of a lifesaver you are!"

The brunette blushed, "Aw, it's no big deal." His expression became thoughtful, "How soon can you come? I can have a room ready for you when you get here if you want."

"I can be there by tomorrow afternoon. And is that possible? I don't have enough money to rent a room."

"It's no trouble. We'll discuss pay rate and all that stuff when you get here tomorrow. Sound good?"

"That sounds great. See ya tomorrow Dip."

"See you."

Dipper hung up and smiled a bit. He'd never really entertained the idea of servants, but if it was a friend, he was sure he could handle it. He stood and stretched, in a considerably better mood. He went off to find his laptop, needing to set up calculations, and look for a new publisher.

He walked into his study and plopped down in his desk chair, opening up Google and sighing, "Lets get this done."

 

¥£¥

 

The secretary hesitated, gulping a bit before opening the door to her Boss's office, "Mr. Rephic?" She began timidly. She yelped and ducked back down as a coffee mug crashed into the wall where her head had just been. 

"Mary, I told you I was busy!"The blond man snarled.

Mary swallowed and shakily held up the papers, "B- but sir, a man named Dipper Pines just emailed us about publishing his new book. I thought you would like to know as soon as possible," She said quietly. Gold flecked eyes widened and the name plate on the mahogany desk flashed briefly: Bill C. Rephic.

The man began shoving the papers scattered over his desk around, brow furrowed. "Dipper Pines, I've heard that name somewhere- Aha! Number one most famous author in all of Gravitsaya! Hell, all the west coast!" He exclaimed.

A grin that was all canines flashed on Bill's face and he slammed the profile down on his desk again. He looked up and Mary flinched, "Well, what're you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Go get me the script and give the editors a copy! Email him back immediately, tell him we accept!"

Mary hastily shuffled forward and placed a stack of papers on his desk before scurrying out of the room like a frightened mouse. Bill snatched the script and began to skim its contents with a wide smile, "The publicity this will bring, not to mention the cash," He mused to himself.

He cackled, "Rich prats are all the same. Flattery and a few favors and they'll give you money for whatever you want." Bill hummed as he reached the second chapter, "Though I will admit, this kid's not half bad at story weaving."

His voice slowly trailed off as he kept reading. It was ten minutes later when Mary popped back in, and Bill held up a hand. "Hold up, Im almost done with chapter seven," He murmured, a concentrated furrow to his brow and a glazed, distant look in his rapidly reading eyes. After a moment he slammed the script down with an irritated look, "That's bullshit...Stupid fucking mobsters...Why would you go with them, dumbass?" He grumbled under his breath.

Mary cleared her throat, and his head shot up. His focus came back and he narrowed his eyes, "Well? Has he responded?"

Mary shifted uncomfortably, "Yes sir, but..." 

Bill scowled, "But what? Come on, spit it out," He demanded. 

Mary bit her lip, tucking a strand of strawberry hair behind her ear and adjusting her glasses, "He wants to meet with the manager to go over things. I tried suggesting a phone call for conference, but he insisted a face to face meeting."

Bill sucked on his teeth, tapping his fingers on his desk. He shoved back his chair, "Alright, tell him I'll meet with him today." 

Mary blinked then followed after him as he grabbed his coat and walked out of his office, "But sir, you're meetings!"

"Cancel them. If they complain, bump then back another month instead of a week."

Mary sighed and let him go with a meek, "Of course, sir." Once out of the building, Bill waved down a cab with the script in hand. He climbed in and slammed the door, causing the driver to give him a dirty look.

"Where to, Mister...?"

"Rephic. And the Pines residence, if you would."

"You sure? That's all the way at the edge of town, you got enough cash?"

"I've got more cash than you've got gray hairs, now go."

Bill continued to read the script as the driver grumbled in annoyance. The blond bit his thumbnail in thought, "This is actually very well written. Too bad the kid's probably a dickwad."

Bill smirked a bit when he heard the driver mumble, "Kinda like you." But ignored him. ' _He's twenty, he's definitely not mature enough to own that much wealth yet, and he's probably got a huge manor with forty servants. He's most likely wears only the finest brand name clothes, eats only five star meals, and drinks tea and wine with everything because God forbid any soda corrupt his body._ '

Bill rolled his eyes. He hated dealing with people like that, but they sponsored his cause (unknowingly, of course) to make the world great again, so he put up with them. He would grit his teeth and grin and play the boy's game, if only to put more cash to his pet project.

Well, if he was honest, being one of the largest and most wealthy publishing companies in the States was his pet project. His real goals were stored under the ground, carried in private conferences, and planned by hissed phone calls in the middle of the night.

Bill's eyes widened and his head shot up, "Shit, I've got to call Alex back!" He fumbled for his phone, shooting the man a text. After a few moments his phone buzzed and he opened up his messages.

**Mephistopheles: Bout time u lil shit.**

**CC: Shut up, something came up at the last minute. Keeping up appearances takes more work than you think it does.**

**Mephistopheles: Suuure :P Anyway, whatever u have tonite better not take 2 long. We're making the move on Jensen tonite, remember?**

**CC: ....**

**Mephistopheles: U forgot, didn't you?**

**CC: No!**

**Mephistopheles: -.-**

**CC: Okay, yes! Jeez, don't hound me about it. Ill be there.**

**Mephistopheles: U better. Eight refuses 2 cover 4 u again.**

**CC: __|*|_**

**Mephistopheles: Rude XP**

Bill snickered and rolled his eyes, putting his phone away. He began reading again, quickly getting sucked into the story about Detective Debbie and the Irish mob boss Blake.

Debbie didn't know Blake was the man she was after yet, and Blake was having fun by playing with her mind because he kept writing messages to her in his victims blood. In chapter thirteen, Debbie finally realized her feelings for Blake, and Blake found himself starting to disregard his duties for her. As of now, they were confessing their feeling in an alleyway and had just been ambushed by a group from the rival mob.

The chapter ended with Blake shooting all of them and Debbie passing out. Bill slammed the script down, "Oh, what the fuck!?" He crossed his arms like a child, quietly fuming as the driver gave him a strange look.

"Chill out man, you're here."

Bill looked up to see they were indeed parked in front of a large house. It had cream colored slats above a small half-wall made of riverstone that wrapped around the house. Two columns of riverstone with occasional quarts at seemingly random intervals standing tall with little iron baskets filled with pine needles wrapped around their middles.

Little powder purple flowers that looked like petunias peeked out from the deep green mounds, starting to curl in on themselves for the evening. The entire driveway and walkway up to the door was made of simple brick, and Bill's shoes clicked loudly on it as he paid the driver and got out of the cab.

He straightened his lapels, adjusting his bowtie before walking forwards. He glanced around and caught a glint of what looked like a very spacious and lavish dining room through the side window. He sneered a bit and rolled his eyes, before straightening and plastering on a too wide, fake smile.

He knocked on the door, waiting impatiently for the maid or butler or whatever to open the door and invite him inside.

Bill heard a yelp and the sound of something crashing to the floor, and some cursing. The door was opened to reveal a panting young man with fluffy brown hair and a pale complexion. His button nose was tinged pink, along with his cheeks, and Bill's blue eyes met wide hazel ones.

The brunette was wearing nothing but a pair of dark green sweatpants and a Star Wars t-shirt. His chocolate curls were giving off a bit of steam and a few hung in his face and dripped small droplets of water onto his nose and forehead. A towel was draped carelessly across his shoulders.

The man finally drew in a breath, "Um, hi? Can I help you?" He asked tentatively. 

Bill blinked, realizing he'd been staring. His cheeks heated up and he cleared his throat, "Yes; I'm here to speak with Mr. Pines, is he here?"

The man tilted his head to the side, "You're lookin' at him." Bill nearly recoiled in shock, but he caught himself just in time. This guy was one the richest people in America? Bill's eyes flicked around to glance at the house again. Yes, yes he was.

Bill held out a hand, "Mr. Bill Rephic of Alseing Publishing Corporations. I was told you wished to meet." The brunette shook his hand and his eyes widened.

"Oh- OH! Yeah, I remember, sorry man. Come in, come in," He said hastily, waving the blond inside and shutting the door behind him. The brunette blushed when he saw the inn table still tipped over in the middle of the hallway, and rushed over to it to right it.

"I'm Dipper, by the way. Nice to meet you, Mr. Rephic."

Bill nodded slowly and clasped his hands behind his back as Dipper set the table back against the wall and walked back over, "You as well... Dipper, was it?" The brunette nodded.

Dipper grabbed the towel around his neck and quickly scrubbed his hair with it to rid it of the last few remaining droplets before folding it over his arm. He began to walk down the hall and motioned for Bill to follow, "We can talk in the kitchen."

Bill followed after him, his head tilted to the side like a curious dog as he watched the younger walked ahead. He was... different than what Bill expected. The blond wasn't sure whether or not he liked that fact yet.

Dipper turned pink as he realized he still had dishes in the sink from dinner and some papers scattered about on the granite island. He scrambled forward, "I- I'm sorry about the mess, but I didn't realize you would be coming so soon, and I didn't tidy up before I got in the shower."

Bill smirked with a chuckle, "It's fine, I've seen much worse." He spent most of the day in his office after all, which constantly looked like a hurricane had crashed through it.

Dipper laughed nervously and quickly put the dishes in the dishwasher and gathered up his notes and błueprints before shoving them in the drawer beside the refrigerator. He turned back around, "I made coffee before I got in. Do you want some?" He asked.

The brunette knew he was acting awkward, but he couldn't help it. This man was intimidating, attractive, and had caught him at bad time. Those blue and gold eyes seemed to pierce right through him, his smirk showed just a bit of perfect white teeth that seemed to be sharper than the rest. His skin was a rich caramel color, his golden hair looking windblown and soft as it flopped over his forehead and curled just below his ears.

Bill's shoulder's were wide and seemed to narrow the lower your eyes went until it cinched at his waist and widened back out with stance as he walked. He had a very hourglass figure, but not in the normal way. He gave an aura of darkness and intrigue, with just a hint of something bright and mischievous underneath. Dipper found it hard to believe this man was actually in his house, before he realized that it was his fucking _house_ and a man like this belonged in it more than he did.

Bill sat down at the island with a grin, "Sure kid. Do you have any creamer?"

"You take salted caramel or cinnamon bun?"

"Caramel, if you don't mind."

"I don't."

Bill chuckled at the quip and Dipper smiled slightly, slowly easing into the atmosphere of having a new person in his home. He poured the coffee and mixed in his usual creamer and sugar, before passing off both containers to Bill along with a mug.

Bill hummed as he swirled in his mix with the spoon before sipping it. He closed one eye with a thoughtful sound.

"Folders?"

"Yep, sweetest coffee money can buy."

Bill let out a surprised laugh, "It's only five dollars a quart!" Dipper shrugged with a small smile as he raised his own mug to his lips, "I said the sweetest coffee money can buy. The sweetest coffee just happens to be five dollars a container. The larger the price doesn't always mean the better the quality."

Bill paused for a moment, before giving a smile (a real one) himself, "No, I suppose it doesn't."

Then he snapped back to focus, setting down his mug to bring out the script. Dipper tensed briefly, but feigned nonchalance, "So you accepted my offer about my novel?" He asked. Bill nodded, thumbing through the pages quickly, "Of course. You're one of the most famous authors in all of Gravitsaya, after all. It's an honor," He replied smoothly.

Dipper beamed at him, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "That's awesome! I mean, I was lucky to get a publisher so late, but my old publisher was... not ideal to work with." He mumbled with a grimace.

Bill looked at him curiously, "What happened?" 

Dipper sighed heavily, "I told him three months ago that I needed the exact number of copies of my book that he needed to print by this deadline, and he called me today to say that he hadn't even started printing them yet because of the backup with Stephen King's new novel, and that he wouldn't be able to get it done."

Dipper's grip on his mug tightened, "Needless to say we got into an argument and uncalled for things were said, and I told him I was calling off our agreement for my novel and any other after it."

Bill leaned forward, "What were the things that were said?" He asked, a little glint in his eye that had Dipper raising an eyebrow.

"I told him that I needed those stock numbers by this week and he started to yell at me, so I yelled back. He called me a rich brat, so I called him an unreasonable prick and here we sit."

Bill shook his head with an amused smile, "Sounds like he was a real piece of work," Bill lamented. 

Dipper ran a hand down his face with a quiet groan, "You have no idea."

Bill then sat up straighter and schooled his expression into something more businesslike. He brought out another piece of paper from his jacket and laid it down, "So, you said you need three hundred copies priced at fifteen ninety five for Booksmith, four hundred seventy five copies priced at ten ninety nine for Books-A-Million, one hundred twenty copies priced at seventeen nineteen for Inc, five hundred copies priced at fifteen even for Barnes & Noble, two hundred thirty five copies priced at thirteen fifty nine for Shakespeare and Company, and twenty seven copies priced at nine ninety nine for Walmart," Bill recited.

He glanced up at Dipper, who nodded in affirmation. Bill continued, "That makes one thousand six hundred fifty seven copies in all, if they're all sold at the correct price by the end of this year, the total pull should be twenty three thousand thirty one dollars and forty three cents."

The blond cast his eyes back up briefly, "What percentage were you proposing again?" 

Dipper blinked, "Fifteen."

Bill put the paper down, doing the math in his head, "That would give me a three thousand five hundred twenty five dollar and forty five cent profit, leaving your balance at..." There was a moment's pause, "Nineteen thousand five hundred five dollars and ninety eight cents."

Dipper nodded, "It might not seem like much, but I looked up your background stocks as well, and with my novel's push along with James Patterson, Emily Dickinson, Scholastic, and Erika James, it should put your yearly profit at sixty five thousand even," He explained.

Bill drew in a breath, pulling up his negotiating skills. He tapped the papers with his pen, "It's a tempting offer, but I can't except it. I pay my employees at least seventeen dollars an hour, and I need more than sixty five to keep doing so."

Dipper hummed and steepled his fingers. After a moment he laid a hand on his script, "Twenty percent. It's as high as I can go." Bill gnawed on his lip briefly, meeting Dipper's eyes warily. The brunette held up his hands, "Just hear me out," He said. "Twenty would bump up your original three thousand five hundred to four thousand six hundred eight dollars and eighty six cents. My balance would come off at eighteen thousand four hundred twenty two dollars and fifty seven cents. It would bump you to a bit over sixty six, and tax is yours to handle so it very well could be sixty seven. Plus," He began as he slid the script forward, "I can promise a sequel within the next year."

Bill contemplated it in his head, then quickly nodded, holding out a hand for Dipper to shake, "Deal." Dipper grinned and shook. 

"Twenty it is! Pleasure doing business with you. However, there's one more thing I'd like to ask," Dipper stated.

Bill motioned for him to continue, and he blushed, looking down at his coffee cup, "What do you think?" He asked shyly. Bill caught his gaze and saw it was pointed at the script.

He smirked, "Very well written, big mystery element, plot twists everywhere, all in all it's a wonderful story. It sucks you in and makes you feel like you're living it with the characters themselves. I love it, and I'm only on chapter thirteen," He replied.

Dipper's eyes widened, "Chapter thirteen!? Oh man, you're gonna positively love chapter fifteen! It's my favorite," He chirped excitedly.

Bill waved his hands around frantically, "No, no, no! Don't tell me! I'm not there yet," He pleaded, a playful small on his lips. Dipper laughed and went to refill his coffee mug.

The evening drew on into night, the two talking about the novel, arguing over Debbie and Blake's relationship, discussing the elemental properties of Jello, and trading questions about the other back and forth. Bill gradually came to realize that as the night went on, that his grins became less false and his smiles less smug, and he felt more relaxed and at ease than he had in a while.

A few hours later his phone buzzed on the counter top, and he picked it up curiously. His eyes widened and he shot to his feet, "Oh fuck!" He began grabbing the papers and stuffing them inside his jacket again, "Sorry kid, I gotta jet. I have a... meeting to get to, and I'm probably gonna be late."

Dipper stood as well, and helped him carry the papers to the door, "I understand. Just promise you'll come back over for lunch sometime," He told him with a laugh. 

Bill chuckled and took the papers from him and jogged back down towards the road, "I will, don't worry Pines!"

Dipper watched him go with a small, happy smile, thanking whatever deity was listening at the moment that making friends here was a lot easier than any where else he'd been.

It took Bill ten minutes to flag a cab down, jumping in and hastily shoving a wad of dollars at him with the address and orders to get there as fast as possible. He laid the papers on the seat beside him, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair.

Then he caught something out of the corner of his eye and his head whipped around as he snatched up the paper. His mouth dropped open in shock for a moment, before he scoffed with a grin, "Holy shit," He snickered, "I've been played."

There on the paper with Dipper's offer information, right under the words 'Asking Percentage', was a big fat twenty.

Bill shook his head, "I'm definitely visiting that kid again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dipper, poor Mary, poor Wendy, poor everyone X3 Comments and kudos are worshipped~ By the way, a thank you to Wyldeheart for fixings my fuck ups <3 OH! And all that business-y shit in this chapter is important, IT WILL BE BROUGHT BACK UP. Until next chapter my darlings!


	4. An Old Grudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper bites off a bit more than he can chew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a long time, hasn't it guys! Anywho, I finally got most of my things back on track, so back to Gravitsaya we go! Yay! Okay, I'm done talking- READ.

Dipper hummed as he straightened up the bedroom Wendy would be using as soon as she got back with her stuff. They'd gone over everything and managed to come to a reasonable compromise, and since Dipper was nice he wasn't charging her for room and board.

He jumped a bit as he heard the doorbell ring. He grinned, racing to the door with an eyeroll. The only person who actually rang the doorbell was-

"Hey Faith."

The silver haired woman smiled brightly at him, "I brought those blue snapdragons you asked for!" She raised an eyebrow at the boxes in the corner then looked back to him with a small pout.

"Moving out already? I thought I was being a very pleasant neighbor!" She said with a false offended tone. Dipper snorted and rubbed the back of his neck, "It's actually the opposite. A friend needed some help financially so I'm letting them come work for me. She's moving in today." He explained.

Faith grinned and waggled her eyebrows, "Ooo, a lady friend living with you. Don't get too dirty now Dipper~" Instead of blushing like he normally would, Dipper simply snorted, "Yeah, cuz she'd have to clean it. Anyway, you said you brought my flowers?"

Faith nodded and handed him a small paper bag, "Mhm! Good thing too, those purple ones really aren't your style."

"Gee thanks."

"You're welcome!"

Dipper chuckled and shook his head, setting the bag down, "Stay and help me? If you don't have anything to do, that is." He quickly amended. The artist shrugged, "Not really. Faolan has been suspiciously quiet lately, so I shouldn't have to go for an hour or so."

Dipper closed the door behind her as she walked in, "I want to see this infamous dog of yours."

Faith hummed, "Maybe one day I'll let you come over."

She then grabbed a stack of boxes and hefted them up with one arm, "C'mon then, times a wastin'!" Then she went off in the direction of the only opened door in sight. Dipper blinked, once again baffled by her uncanny strength, then picked up the rest of the boxes (three to Faith's seven) and followed after her.

They made idle chatter as they set the boxes in the correct spaces, ready to be unpacked as soon as Wendy returned.

"Yo Dip!" Speak of the devil.

The ginger popped her head into the room with a grin, "Got the rest of my stuff! I'm- Well who's this?" She raised an eyebrow at Faith. Said girl straightened up and smoothed down her denim vest before holding out her hand with a polite smile.

"You must be the friend Dipper was talking about! The name's Faith. I'm Dipper's sort of neighbor." She greeted cheerfully. Wendy shook her hand with a tentative smile.

Then her brow furrowed, "You look familiar, have we met before?" Faith's fiery green eyes widened for a fraction of a second, alarm briefly flaring in her irises before she smiled again, "Nope! This is the first time I've seen you." She chirped with a laugh, but it was forced and her smiled was tight, her tone alluding to something gone unsaid.

Wendy peered at her for a moment more before shrugging, "Alright then, nice to meet you. I'm Wendy Corduroy." Faith visibly relaxed and Dipper frowned. Something was up. He shook it off as Wendy leaned to set the boxes in her arms down.

"Let’s get started then!"

"The sooner the better."

Wendy snickered and began to unpack, instructing Faith and Dipper as they began to do the same on where to put everything. Dipper was on his third box when suddenly his phone rang.

He placed the bag of toiletries he was holding on the dresser next to the TV, pulling out his phone.

Phone calls, phone calls, phone calls. When would they end?

"Dipper Pines here." He recited while he waited for whoever was on the other line to respond.

He blinked in surprise when he heard Mabel's voice, "Bro Bro, turn on the news." Her voice was shaking, and he didn't have to be able to see her to know she was as white as a sheet.

He furrowed his brows and grabbed the remote, "Why? Mabel what's wrong?" He demanded as he clicked the TV n and turned it to channel four. Mabel drew in a sharp breath, "Call me back after you see." She whispered, then hung up.

Dipper made a frustrated sound then shoved his phone back in his pocket, looking back up at the screen. His eyes widened as he saw footage of a darkened sky with bright blue flames licking at its curtains. A woman's voice in the background was frightened.

"Our fears have unfortunately been confirmed as the Jensen building burned to the ground last night, wiping off the power of half the west coast for several hours. The person we believed to be behind the murders of the past few weeks and this heinous act was none other than the infamous villain from seven years ago."

Dipper's blood ran cold as the footage showed the figure that haunted his nightmares flying above the burning building with a maniac grin. A vicious cackle could be heard as the gold and black cloaked and hooded figure sent another wave of fire towards Jensen and the buildings around it. The black mask of a jackal could be seen just underneath the shadow of the hood.

The announcer's voice cracked, "Caesar Cipher is back." Dipper's jaw clenched, his hand fisting around his phone until his knuckles flushed white and the edges cut into his fingers.

Wendy made a noise, and Dipper felt his shoulder twinge briefly. Faith's expression had hardened, and her gloved hands were curled into fists.

"I have to go."

Dipper didn't even look at her as she slipped out, "See you later," He responded bluntly, eyes still locked on the TV. She made a noncommittal noise and it was a few moments before he heard the front door slam.

His phone rang again, and he answered it, not looking away from the screen.

"He's back Dipper."

"I can see that..."

"What're we gonna do?"

There was a long moment of tense silence, then a shaky sigh.

"I honestly don't know, Mabel."

The other end gave a faint whimper. Dipper scowled, quickly shutting the TV off and slamming the remote down, "But I do know I'm sure as hell not going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs," He snapped, storming off to the stairs.

"Not after last time."

Mabel made a soft noise, "What're you gonna do?"

Dipper jerked his laptop open and clicked on a document he'd avoided looking at for years.

"Something."

Because something was better than nothing.

 

 

¥£¥

 

 

"What do you mean there are no more files on the matter!? Caesar Cipher had a case file as big as Cape Cod, and now you're telling me there's nothing there!? These things don't just vanish in seven years!" Dipper waited for the Chief of Police to reply, then dragged a hand down his face, sighing. Shadowed eyes glared dazedly at the wall as a caffeine induced shaking hand held the phone to his ear. He shoved a hand through his hair with a sound of frustration, then nodded, "Of course sir. Let me know if you find anything." He hung up and fell face first onto his bed with a groan.

He hadn't slept since the news that Caesar Cipher had reemerged to terrorize the world again. Wendy had gotten moved in, and Faith hadn't visited since the news either. How long had it been? Three. Three days. He hadn't seen his friend or a wink of sleep in three days, and in his mind he knew it was futile. Even if he got the information, what would he do with it? He didn’t have an army, he didn’t have anything to bargain or ransom with, and he didn't even own a gun.

He had just closed his eyes when the doorbell rang, and he nearly cried in anguish as he made himself get up to answer it. The brunette ambled over to the door, catching sight of himself in the mirror and having to do a double take. His hair was stuck up all over the place, chocolate ringlets matted to his temples and springing up hectically nearly his crown, other hanging over to shadow his eyes which were heavy with dark rings and a bit glazed from staring at a computer screen for so long. His skin was more pale than usual, and his clothes were rumpled.

Dipper shook his head and opened the door, "Yes?" He asked tiredly. His eyes widened as they met electric blue ones. Bill gave him a once over and raised an eyebrow, "Yeesh kid, you look rough." He noted, shifting the file under his arms. In his pristine suit and neatly brushed blond hair with his snappy little bowtie, Bill had effectively cowed the wealthiest man in America. Dipper instinctively smoothed out his pants, acutely aware of his bare feet and unwashed hair. Dear God, he most likely had coffee breath too.

He laughed nervously, "Mr. Rephic! Hi." He said lamely, kicking the several Dunkin Donuts bags by the door out of sight. He smiled weakly and tried to discreetly comb his hair by running his fingers through it, "Yeah, I haven't slept in three days!" Dipper's eyes were wide and his mouth stretched into a pitiful grin as he stepped back, "Come in."

Bill gave him a strange look, "Call me Bill, kid. And three days? That’s quite the feat." He mused as he waited for the smaller to close the door. Dipper padded towards the kitchen once more, then changed his mind and headed for the living room. That may or may not have had to do with the fact that he had several coffee mugs and plastic Starbucks cups scattered all over the counters.

Dipper shrugged, "Not for me. My research normally keeps me up for weeks at a time. Though, it usually depends on the work." He responded, only to hiss moments later when he realized he still had papers and his open laptop sprawled across the coffee table. He scrambled forward, snatching up papers and dashing between the living room and the dining room to stow the papers away until Bill left. Could this man never came when he was prepared for company?

Bill wandered over to look at his works. His mouth quirked up as he picked up a printed news article, raising an eyebrow, "Caesar Cipher, huh?" He inquired as Dipper came back in, freezing when he saw the paper in Bill's hands. The blond glanced at him, "Interesting character. Any particular reason you're researching him?" His voice was a purr, and Dipper stalked back over with a glare.

Bill blinked as the article was ripped from his hands as Dipper snatched it and put it with the rest, slamming his laptop shut, his eyes narrow, "Is there any particular reason you're here, Mr. Rephic?" 

Bill smiled, "Of course," he replied, taking the file from under his arm. "I came to give you the first week’s stats."

Dipper left the room to deposit the data in the dining room, coming back with a frown, "Your secretary said I would get those by email. Is there something wrong or...?" He trailed off as he sat down on the couch. Bill shook his head, "I just wanted to give them to you in person. Informal and unbusinesslike, I'm aware, but I find you very interesting." His blond hair fell across his eyes charmingly as he put his chin in his palm, flashing a bright grin at the younger male.

Dipper blinked as his cheeks flushed, and he sputtered for a moment, before straightening himself back out. He didn’t make it this far in life by falling down every time he was caught by surprise. He gave the publisher a smirk, "I’m sure you do, as most people will when they're told I have quite a lot of wealth." It was meant to be sarcastic and smooth, but the last part came out as a bitter snarl. 

Bill wasn’t fazed, "That's not what's interesting about you at all," He chirped.

Dipper did a mental double take, "I-It's not?" He stammered, staring at Bill with wide eyes. 

Bill tilted his head with a contemplative look, then grinned, "Well, I wouldn't say that your money makes you uninteresting, because it certainly has its charm. But I'm more interested in _you_. The way you dress, the way you act, the way you speak, I think it's rather endearing. Refreshing, if I may. You're a lot different than any other wealthy man I've met."

Dipper flushed, puffing up a bit and straightening with pride. He then realized his ego was going to get him to spew some rich prat reply, so he swatted it back down to its normal size. As Mabel always said, modesty is polite and being a braggart is just rude! She really needed to work on her sayings.

Dipper cleared his throat, smiling at Bill, "I am...very flattered. But I'm not sure that makes me interesting. Plenty of people have money and don't flaunt it like an entitled brat." He replied with a little laugh. Bill smiled back, then raised an eyebrow.

"Do you think I'm one of those entitled brats?"

"You certainly have a lot of money Bill, but I wouldn't put you in that category just yet."

"Yet?" Bill barked out a laugh, "You certainly know how to charm," He sneered goodnaturedly. 

Dipper chuckled, "Well, I don't know you all that well yet."

Bill glanced at the ground, "I hope to change that." He said softly. 

Before Dipper could respond, the doorbell rang again. His brow furrowed, "Who could that be? The only people that ring the doorbell are you and-" His face paled.

The brunette stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the coffee table. He grabbed Bill's arm and hauled him up, starting to shove him towards the door. Bill yelped in surprise, then shook his head, "Hey! What's going on?" He demanded.

Dipper ignored him and kept shoving him towards the backdoor, "Thanks for stopping by, it was great to have you, I'll look at the stats tonight and email you, we should hang out sometime!" Dipper blurted, still pushing. Now that Bill had dug his heels into the floor to slow his progress, it was a bit harder.

"Wait, what? You're making me leave?" Bill asked, bewildered. Dipper bit his lip, realizing how weird and rude he was being, but he couldn't shake the feeling that those two should never meet. Ever. Those two parts of his life needed to stay separate, and he wasn't really sure why. Dipper normally didn't act on bad feelings, but this was strong enough to make him listen for once.

"I’m sorry, I really am," Dipper started, "But I'll explain later. So, in a very nonrude way, you need to leave." The blond grasped the doorframe as he was shoved out of it. 

"Wait!" He spun around and caught the door before Dipper could close it, "We haven't even discussed the-" 

Dipper cut him off, "We can discuss it over lunch. Wednesday, one o clock, Greasy's diner, don't be late." He said quickly. Bill blinked, then grinned, "See you then." He shut the door behind him and left.

Dipper shook his head, realizing there were more pressing matters at hand, and he could think about how'd he'd asked his publisher out without meaning to later. He rushed to the foyer, skidding to a stop at the door and flinging it open, yanking Faith in and shutting the door quickly. Just in time it would seem, since Bill then walked around the corner of the house and practically bounced to his car.

Faith raised an eyebrow, her smirk unusually absent from her face, "What was that about?" 

Dipper smiled weakly, "Oh, nothing! Just someone you should never meet, like, ever, if I can help it." When this only got him the other eyebrow raised too, he swallowed.

"I really don't think having two sarcastic assholes in my living room with their scary faces on is a good idea. Speaking of which, why do you have a scary face on? You're never serious, so this is concerning. My nerves are already shot-"

"Dipper, I need you to shut up and listen to me for two seconds, okay kid?"

Dipper's mouth snapped shut with an audible click, and Faith nodded and grabbed his wrist, tugging him into his library and pushing him into the nearest armchair. She rubbed her temples and sighed, sitting in the chair across from the brunette. Fiery green irises snapped open to glare up at him through dark lashes, seeming to crackle and burn in absent fury. Dipper gulped. 

Faith held his eyes, "What I say and do does not leave this room without my permission, are we clear?" She said quietly. Dipper took a brief moment to wonder how a woman smaller and less powerful than him could make him cower before nodding. Faith nodded and raised a gloved hand, snapping her fingers. There was a green spark, and the library door shut and locked with a click, and a shudder went through it as it flashed green momentarily before stilling.

Dipper's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and he began to stammer, "H-how did you... Faith... Door just c-closed... by itself..." 

Faith rolled her eyes, "Dip, get a grip." She demanded, and he automatically took a deep breath, trying to tame his questions and panic. He finally managed to meet the girl's eyes again.

Faith smiled just a bit, "Yes, I closed a door without touching it. No, I'm not just a simple artist who lives in the back woods. And no, I'm not reading your mind; you're curiosity is written all over your face." She explained, digging in her satchel before bringing out a little green glass box. It glinted with a silver metal lining and was about the size of one of those New Testament bibles they put in the drawers in hotels.

She put it on the coffee table, keeping a protective hand on top of it. She gnawed her lip for a moment before sighing, "When I heard Caesar Cipher was back, I knew something had to be done. But I also am not naive enough to think I have the resources to do anything anymore. I need help." It was spat through grit teeth, a wounded pride snarling just below her throat.

Then she took sucked in a deep breath, "When I saw how you reacted to the news the other day, I knew you were the one to help me. I know you haven't known me long but...I'm afraid I haven't been entirely honest with you Dipper."

She pushed the box at him without another word, face going blank. Dipper blinked, then reached out shaking hands to take the box, bringing it closer before flipping open the lid. It was filled with papers: newspaper clippings, photos, cutouts of letters and signatures. There was what looked like a playing card on top of it all.

Dipper reached in and pulled that out first, flipping it over to see the character on the front. His first reaction was to scoff, an exasperated laugh bursting from his lips. It died off when he saw Faith wasn't laughing with him, telling him it was all an elaborate joke, and just staring at him with an unamused face, as if she expected him to laugh.

He held up the card, its metallic lettering glinting, "This is a joke, right? A prank, pulling my leg? You're kidding, right?" He said uncertainly. 

Faith merely stood up and stepped away from the furniture. She spread her arms and tilted her head at him, "I can assure you kid," She began, giving him a small smirk. She swung her arms in and down, and from her fist to her elbows, her arms burst into green flames, snapping along the fabric of her gloves. She grinned wildly, "I am most definitely _not_ kidding."

Dipper edged back with an alarmed noise, clutching the card harshly. He glanced down at it, "So you're really the..." He paused to gather his wits again, "The Dream Wisher. From the Alliance." He ventured carefully. 

Her grin turned bitter, "That's what people called me, yes," She replied, being oddly cagey. Dipper studied her, looking more closely. The resemblance was definitely there, and had he not been so bewildered when they'd first met, he might've thought her familiar.

He remembered seeing it on the news all those years ago; a group had risen to fight the rising power of Caesar Cipher and his minions, and done a damn good job of it, until...

"The Alliance is dispersed." Dipper said, more of a question than anything else. Cipher's forces had left the Heroes crippled and weak, disbanded and turning on one another, just before disappearing himself. 

Faith winced, "Yes." She answered with a sigh, the flames dying down as she walked over and picked up a photo inside the box, handing it to him.

"Flint, Sixer, and I were the only ones left. Everyone else had the Alliance erase their memories so they would live normal lives again, their fear winning out over their sense of what was right. They chose cowardice," She bit out, "Over justice." Dipper swallowed as he took in the photo of at least ten masked figures. Well, masked except for one familiar figure. He glanced up, "You didn't wear-"

"A mask? No. I had no need for one, I was not ashamed or afraid of who I was or what I was doing. The fuckers we fought couldn't shake my resolve enough to ever get me to consider it. Though Sixer, heh, he always urged me to wear one, just in case. But then again, he never knew that I had nothing to lose."

She looked up at Dipper again, who was silently stating at the evidence in front of him, then glancing up at his friend. He looked down at the card in his palm; a woman in a gray cloak, fire alight in her palm and an aloof expression on her face, silvery shapes stretched out behind her. He cracked a wobbly smile, "Guess the only things you're missing are the cape and the wings, huh? Not to mention the metal arm thing. Is that, like, still a thing, or..." He trailed off, trying not to go into shock.

The woman's eyes softened and gently grabbed his shoulder and squeezed, "I know it's a lot to take in, but I've still got a lot to say and very little time to say it. I need you to listen to me, Dipper. I see something in you I haven't seen in years, and right now, you're the only one who can help stop him. I can help you come into your full potential, but it has to be your decision. I can't force you into this. Caesar Cipher is an evil man, but he's also a powerful man, and I don't blame you if you don't want to go up against him. You don't have magic, you don't have strength, but you've got influence and wits that are sharp as Excalibur."

Dipper made an affronted noise at the strength comment, but his mind was already whirring with possibilities and questions. This was happening really fast, too fast, and it almost seemed too good to be true. This was the something he was looking for, but he couldn't help but have doubts and second thoughts now that it was in front of him.

Caesar Cipher was just as Faith had said, and Dipper was influential, but what could he do if Cipher showed up on his doorstep and tried to kill him? Throw books and chewed pens at him? Yeah, no, Dipper liked his head where it was and his skin medium rare instead of charred, thank you very much.

Faith took his calculating look in stride, smiling sadly, "I can help you, but only if you _want_ to help me. I'm not going to make you stick out your neck if you don't want to, but I saw it in your eyes- you want justice. You want to protect and keep, not just your sister, but everyone safe. You wouldn't stay up for days on end tearing your hair out over information about the man if you didn't." She waited for him to say something, but when he only bit his lip and stared at his lap, she sighed.

She shut the box and replaced it in her satchel, "If you decide you want to join me, I invite you to my house tomorrow. Just keep walking until you start seeing strawberry bushes and follow those. If not, nothing you have just heard will leave this room. No matter how much I like you, Dipper Pines, I won't fucking hesitate to rip you apart if you turn and out me to the enemy."

She then turned and began to walk to the door, waving her hand, making the door shudder and glow once more. She had opened it and was about step outside when Dipper finally found his voice, "You know, coming in here like that and telling someone they can either be sensible or balless is a pretty bold move. Though a stupid one, since you should've known which one I'd choose. My only question is, what the hell does you helping me entail?"

He folded his hands behind his neck with a little nervous grin. Faith whirled, blinking before grinning broadly, shutting the door again, "How much do you hate the cliché term Superhero?"


End file.
